Fully Ignited (Boston Fire #3)

by Shannon Stacey

  She opened the pantry door and scanned for Walsh’s name on the list. “Food purge duty, huh? That sounds fun.”

  “You and I can do the fridge and Chris has the pantry,” Gavin told her. “It doesn’t take long, since we try to do it every week.”

  They started by putting a fresh trash bag in the garbage can, while Chris took a second bag into the pantry. Then Gavin, who had a better idea of how long things had been in there, opened the fridge and started on the top shelf.

  “I’ll hand off to you,” he said. “Anything disposable, you can toss the whole thing. If something’s in a dish or whatever, dump the contents and we’ll wash the dishes after.”

  “I guess if you try to do it every week, there shouldn’t be anything too bad in there.”

  “Are you married?” Gavin asked, handing her a plastic bag of fruit definitely past its prime to toss. “Have any kids?”

  “Nope. You?”

  “No. Jeff and Chris are both married. Aidan and Rick are both engaged, and Grant and I are single, so we date and stuff. He’s been seeing this girl for like a month, so it might get serious.” He paused. “And Scotty’s on a break right now.”

  “A break?”

  “Yeah, from dating. He’s not seeing anybody right now, and hasn’t for at least a couple of months, I think.”

  “Wow, a couple of months.” He was practically a monk, she thought, though she chose to keep that bit of sarcasm to herself.

  “He’s dated some real winners, let me tell ya. I guess now he’s looking for somebody to marry, so he’s not dating until he finds the right woman.”

  “How do you find out if you want to marry a woman if you don’t date her first?”

  Grant looked confused for a minute, and then he laughed. “No, if he meets a woman he thinks he might want to marry in the future, he’d probably date her a couple of times to see. But he’s not dating women he knows he won’t marry just to have a girlfriend anymore because then he might miss out on the right woman.”

  “I guess people reach a point in their lives when they know what they want and what they don’t want and their priorities shift.”

  “Scotty definitely knows what he doesn’t want now,” Chris said, his deep voice startling Jamie. He was so quiet, she’d almost forgotten he was in the pantry. “Now he’s looking for a TV wife.”

  She laughed. “He wants a wife on television? Like an actress?”

  “No, like a wife from one of those old shows, with the wife in the apron and pearls, making dinner while helping the kids do their homework. Meeting him at the door with his slippers and all that.”

  “Probably going to be a long break for him, then.” If Scott was holding out for some idealized Suzy Homemaker version of a wife, he’d be spending a lot of time alone.

  “He’s exaggerating,” Gavin said. “A little. And I think that’s everything from the fridge and freezer.”

  “Not much,” Chris responded, pulling the full trash bag out of the can and tying it off.

  “Are you guys making food?” Aidan asked, walking in with Scott and Jeff on his heels.

  “No, we’re throwing food away,” Jamie said, gesturing to the garbage can.

  “I was thinking about eating that leftover American chop suey,” Scott said, peering over her shoulder.

  He was close enough so she could smell his shampoo, and she tried to ignore the goose bumps that tickled her skin. “I opened the container and smelled it. Trust me when I tell you tossing it was for the best.”

  His laughter was almost a physical touch, and she picked up the garbage can so she had an excuse to step away from him. After putting it in its place, she pulled the bag out and shoved the contents down so she could tie it off.

  “I’ll take that for you,” Scott said, reaching for it. His hand brushed hers and it took all of her willpower to simply let go and move her hand instead of yanking it back as though she’d been burned.

  “Thanks.”

  “Nobody’s making more dirty dishes until we’re done in here,” Gavin said, making a shooing motion back toward the living room.

  Jamie was surprised when the other guys listened to him. He and Grant were not only the youngest, but the lowest on the seniority totem pole, so it was clear to her that everybody in both companies respected the chore list.

  Scott was the last one to leave the kitchen, and he turned back as he reached the door, giving her a grin that threatened to short-circuit her common sense. “Thanks for saving me from the American chop suey.”

  She felt herself smiling back at him and could only hope the heat flooding her body didn’t show on her face. “Can’t be going a man down on my first tour.”

  Once he was gone, she started filling the sink with hot, soapy water to give herself a moment. She’d never been attracted to a guy she worked with before, and she had no coping skills for the way her pulse quickened every time she saw Scott.

  Dumping the dishes they’d taken from the fridge into the sink, she turned the water off, wishing she could turn the attraction off just as easily. It was time to start exploring the neighborhood and finding good hangout places. Maybe she’d get lucky and feel that same zing for a guy she didn’t work with.

  “You okay?” Gavin asked, and she realized she’d been standing there, gripping the edge of the sink and staring at the soap bubbles.

  “Yeah, I just got lost in thought. You drying?”

  She’d just pulled the plug after washing the last dish when the alarm sounded.

  * * *

  SCOTT RANG THE doorbell of his sister’s house and then waited, zipping his sweatshirt against the chill in the air. When Ashley opened the door, he couldn’t help grinning at her. It had become a habit—almost an involuntary reflex—since she and Danny had told him she was pregnant.

  That had been mere days before the fire they almost lost Danny to, and Scott would never forget the gut-wrenching fear that he was going to have to tell his sister her husband and the father of her unborn child had died.

  That was behind them now, though, and every time he saw his sister, Scott had a holy crap, she’s having a baby moment. She wasn’t showing yet, and wouldn’t for a while, but she was already glowing.

  “Hey, you. Come on in.”

  He stepped into the house the couple had bought cheap and then remodeled over time. They’d planned ahead and now, while their first child was still just a speck of a thing, they had a nice home in a great neighborhood for a lot less than most of their neighbors had paid.

  “Hey, Danny, Scotty’s here,” she called, and Scott heard what sounded like a recliner being folded back into a sitting position.

  Danny was almost on his feet by the time Scott walked into the living room, and he was glad to see him moving with less pain than the last time he’d stopped by. His leg was in a cast, and he tucked crutches under his arm as he stood up on his good leg.

  “You didn’t have to get up.”

  “Yes, he did,” Ashley said. “He’s supposed to get up and move around a lot, actually. He just can’t put weight on the leg yet.”

  Danny rolled his eyes, but the warm smile he gave his wife made it more affectionate than annoying. “I have to stop taking her to my appointments.”

  “Good luck with that,” Scott said. “How you doing?”

  “Better.”

  “Want to get out of the house?”

  Danny’s face brightened, but then he looked at Ashley. “Is that okay with you? Just for a little while, maybe?”

  She chuckled. “Who do you think called Scotty and told him to get you the hell out of the house before I smother you with a pillow?”

  “We’ll just go to the bar for a bit and hang out, since you can’t wear real clothes,” Scott told him.

  Danny looked down at the sweatpa
nts with one leg cut off above the cast. “Sounds good to me.”

  “No beer, though,” Ashley said. “Decaf or soda or something. I know you haven’t been taking the painkillers they gave you if you can help it, but going out and sitting in those chairs might be a lot and you’ll want a pill to help you sleep.”

  “Yes, dear.”

  Scott found a fascinating spot on the wall to stare at, bracing himself for an awkward family moment. Their communication issues had been one of the biggest reasons their marriage had hit the skids and, while Ashley didn’t have as hot a temper as he and Lydia did, that was exactly the kind of platitude that would make her pop off.

  But then Danny slapped Ashley on the ass and they both laughed when the action made him wobble, almost falling off his crutches. Scott kept staring at that spot on the wall, though, because then there was kissing. He was happier for his sister than he’d been about almost anything in his life, but that didn’t mean he wanted to watch the reconciliation in action.

  “You’re presentable enough for a bar,” she said. “But you should at least brush your hair.”

  Scott chuckled when Danny ran his hands through his hair and grinned at his wife. “How’s that?”

  She gave him an affectionate eye roll, and then she smiled when Danny rested his hand on her stomach for a second. “I won’t be too late.”

  Scott felt a pang of something—yearning, maybe—at the gesture and went back to the foyer to grab Danny’s sweatshirt off the hook. There was a lot of love going on around him, what with Danny and Ashley making up, Aidan and Lydia falling in love, and then Rick Gullotti falling for his landlords’ granddaughter.

  He wanted it. All of it. The love, the having a person to go home to at the end of the day. The holding hands and secret glances. The babies. Not just because the people around him had it, but because when he lay down at night, he felt the emptiness. He felt incomplete.

  “You’re going to have to take my car,” Ashley said, taking her keys out of a dish on a side table near the door. “Unless you think you can catch him when he falls out of your truck.”

  “I could just drop the tailgate and hoist him into the bed. It’s not far.”

  “The seat’s all the way back on the passenger side, so he can get in okay. He’ll need a hand getting out, though. The crutches fit if you wedge them between the front seats and...you’ll figure it out.”

  Scott figured it out without putting the end of the sticks through the car’s display console, which he considered a win. Then, after locking his truck, he slid into his sister’s car and started the engine.

  “It’s a four-cylinder, so don’t try to beat any lights,” Danny warned. “You won’t make it.”

  Scott laughed and backed out onto the street. “Too bad I don’t have long enough ramps. I could put you in this car, drive it up into the back of my truck and then drive that.”

  “We’d be legendary.” Danny laughed and then looked over at him. “I really appreciate this, Scotty. I’m losing my freaking mind at home. I mean, I get out with Ashley, but I know she’d like a break and I need a break.”

  “Hey, any time.”

  It took longer to get Danny out of the car, onto his crutches and into the bar, and then to go park the car, than it had taken to drive there, and Scott managed to break a sweat despite the dropping temperature.

  By the time he got back inside, Danny had disappeared, but Lydia waved him toward the back room. Danny was sitting at a table against the wall, with his leg propped up on a second chair. He was talking to Gavin, who seemed to be there alone.

  “Hey, I was hoping you’d show up,” he said to Scott. “I had some time to kill, so I figured I’d see if anybody was around for a game.”

  “Since you got me a beer, I guess it would be rude to say no.”

  “I got you two beers, since Danny can’t drink his.”

  Danny held up a soda. “If I can get enough of a sugar rush, I might be able to lean against the table and shoot some pool. For now, I’ll watch.”

  Scott broke and the game was on. He won the first game, pausing occasionally for a sip of beer while Gavin analyzed potential shots. The kid was a math whiz and sometimes mumbled to himself, as if he was doing fancy geometry equations in his head to line up his shots.

  Scott happened to be standing at the end of the pool table that offered a view of the door when it opened and a woman walked in. It was Jamie, and he was glad she went the other way—toward the bar—because he couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

  “Hey, it’s your shot,” Gavin said just as Jamie passed beyond his view from the alcove.

  “You got somewhere to be?” he asked, turning back to the table.

  “Yeah, I’ve got a date tonight. I’m meeting her at nine.”

  Scott bent over the table and considered the angle. “Who goes on a date at nine o’clock on a Wednesday night?”

  “Two people who have Thursdays off. Was that Jamie who walked in just now?”

  He asked the question midshot and Scott swore as the ball rebounded off the bumper, a fraction of an inch from the pocket. “Yeah, I guess.”

  Gavin sank his last two balls, putting an end to the game. “You must have something on your mind tonight. You’re not usually this easy to beat.”

  “I read somewhere you’re supposed to allow kids to win things once in a while. Good for your self-esteem.”

  A few guys wandered in, each carrying a full mug of beer. Scott recognized two of them as firefighters from a nearby station, though not nearby enough so they were regulars at Kincaid’s.

  “Hey, boys. How’s it going?”

  Scott felt his temper rise at the arrogant tone, but he shrugged. “Just finishing up. Feel free.”

  Gavin was heading out anyway, and he had no desire to shoot pool with this group. They’d been at a table when he showed up, so he knew they’d had a head start on the drinking, and he didn’t like the one guy very much. Randy, he thought his name was.

  He joined Danny at the table and took a long swallow of his beer before grimacing. A fresh cold one would be nice, but Lydia didn’t wait on him when he was in the back room, so he’d have to go to the bar. And Jamie was at the bar.

  Danny leaned across the table so he could keep his voice low. “Speaking as both your brother-in-law and your lieutenant, you don’t want to go there.”

  “Go where?”

  “I saw you, man. It was pretty obvious you were checking out a woman you thought was hot, and then a minute later Gavin says Jamie Rutherford had walked in.”

  Scott managed not to squirm on the chair, but he didn’t look at Danny. Instead he watched Randy whatever-his-name-was breaking, and he winced. The guy was sloppy and if he ripped the felt, Tommy would tear him a new one.

  “Scotty.”

  He shrugged. “Yeah, so I looked. Nothing wrong with that.”

  “You don’t exactly have a reputation for self-control when it comes to women.” His brother-in-law held up his hand when he turned to frown at him. “Yeah, I know you’re reformed and all that happy horseshit. I’m just saying you shouldn’t go there. It’s a bad idea.”

  “I know that.” He also knew that changing his ways as far as women were concerned wasn’t just happy horseshit. He was serious about taking relationships more seriously and finding the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

  That didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate a beautiful woman, though, as long as he was more careful to keep his appreciation to himself.

  * * *

  JAMIE CALLED HERSELF every synonym for idiot she could think of as she walked across Kincaid’s Pub to the bar.

  Yesterday, she’d told herself she needed to find some hangout spots and meet a guy who wasn’t a firefighter and would hopefully distract her from Scott Kincaid. Today, s
he was walking into his family’s bar.

  She knew it was stupid, but she’d done her best to rationalize the decision, anyway. What better way to get to know her coworkers than to have a beer with them?

  As soon as she reached the bar, she would have guessed the woman behind it was one of Scott’s sisters even if he hadn’t told her they primarily did the bartending. The woman with the dark hair pulled into a thick ponytail gave her a polite smile, and then did a double-take when she saw the E-59 logo on Jamie’s T-shirt.

  “You must be Jamie,” she said, extending her hand over the bar. “I’m Lydia, Scott’s sister and Aidan’s fiancée.”

  Jamie shook her hand, smiling. “Nice to meet you. I’ve been in with friends a couple of times, though it’s been a while and I don’t think you were here.”

  “I was living in New Hampshire for a while. What can I get you to drink?”

  Jamie told her she’d take whatever Lydia recommended on tap, noticing there were no stools on her side of the bar, though a couple of guys were sitting on the other side. They were in business suits, so she guessed it was an after-work meet-up and their work wasn’t fighting fires.

  Lydia set a frosted mug on a paper coaster in front of her. “You’re not a New Englander, judging by the accent. How’d you end up in Boston?”

  She shrugged, swirling her drink in the glass. “Classic story, I guess. I moved here for a guy. Then the guy moved on and I didn’t.”

  “Was he from here?”

  “No. He got offered a job in pharmaceutical sales and we’d been together long enough so he asked me to go with him the first time. Once you do that, you’re pretty much an official couple, so every time he moved to a bigger city and a bigger company for work, I moved, too. Things were going south between us about the time he realized he hated being away from his parents and I like Boston, so he went home without me.”

  “Where’s home?”

  Jamie hated this part—all the questions—though she knew there was no way around it. The firefighting community was close-knit, and she was going to be part of if whether she wanted to be or not. “Nebraska.”

  Lydia frowned. “Really?”